


The Art of Life

by Leni



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:51:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2221317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is an artist. Her paintings come to life.</p>
<p>(AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Life

When she was two, Jane painted flowers along the bottom of the walls. Penny and Summer would wander delightedly in her wake, gathering the blossoms into colorful bouquets and pinning crooked lilies and wildflowers into each other's hair.

They would be so happy they wouldn't even grouse those nights, as they rinsed their hair three times to squeeze out the paints, and sometimes they planned to pool together their allowances to get their little sister a new brush.

(They never did, but Jane didn't mind.)

*

Jane painted herself a puppy with ears too big and a short adorable muzzle when she was seven. Its name was Cuddles, and Jane's fingers would be sticky with white slick fur when she petted it. She hid it under her bed every day, already aware that her big siblings always took the nicest things, and she pulled it up under her covers through the night and she let it lick pink streaks onto her cheek until she fell asleep.

Cuddles stayed for ten days, until the drip-drip-drip of its shedding became a little white puddle in the middle of her bed.

Nobody asked why Jane buried her favorite sheet in the backyard.

(It was okay. She hadn't been crying anyway.)

*

When Jane was twelve and most of her family had left to see the world, she decided to bring the world to her home.

"Jane!" Trent's bellow came from the basement, but his squishy steps quickly made their way across the house to her doorstep. He was a mess of blues and greens, with a whitish foam dragging down his hair. He shot her an exasperated look and spit out a chunk of the Pacific Ocean. "You _have_ to quit this watery phase, sis."

Jane stared at him, cringed, and glanced at her half-done rendition of the Niagara Falls. If she paid attention, she could hear the rumble of the water already. "You may have a point," she admitted.

Trent huffed and came in to give her hair a fond ruffle. "You're lucky I haven't put my equipment down there yet."

Jane started nodding, but she ended up squealing and punching her brother's arm when she realized he'd smeared the paint all over her.

Trent laughed, of course.

She made a mental note to paint a moustache on his girlfriend's face.

* 

When Jane was fifteen, she tired of being by herself at high school after the first month.

"It'll be over soon enough," her sisters told her.

"It's not as if it really matters," her brothers advised.

But it mattered to her, and three years stuck in a classroom with no one to talk to sounded like the worst torture.

One weekend, Jane pulled all her furniture to one side of her room and nailed her best canvases to the wall.

Her first attempt melted as soon as it tried to speak.

The second through eleventh left oily footprints no matter which shoes they wore.

The twelfth had promise, but it was shy and wouldn't last long under public scrutiny. Jane didn't mourn when the paint sluiced off and she was alone again.

Number thirteen stepped off the canvas before Jane was quite finished. "Ow," the new girl complained, giving her an arch look. "That's my eye you're poking, Jane." And with that, she stepped around Jane and went to sit on her bed, giving the room a slow perusal. Or trying to, as her eyes squinted painfully and she finally gave up with a disgruntled sigh. "It's the last time I let you pose me without my glasses," she grumbled.

"Glasses?" Jane shook her head and tried to focus. "You- you know my name?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay, let's play amnesia. You're Jane, I'm Daria, and we're best friends," she said with such a matter-of-fact tone that Jane didn't doubt her. Then she kept palming around the mattress and the nearest surfaces, apparently looking for the misplaced glasses. Her efforts left no colorful smears in her wake. "A little help, please? You know I'm functionally blind without them."

Jane blinked at... at Daria. "Sure," she started, and felt a slow grin tug at her lips. She grabbed her palette and her finest brush. "Coming right up."

 

The End  
29/08/14

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mahmfic at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/553086.html?thread=77999486#t77999486).


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